Conan The Valiant Part 8

In the silence that followed, Conan clearly heard the snik of a crossbow being c.o.c.ked. He laughed. "Best tell that archer to c.o.c.k his bow while people are still talking. When everyone's gaping like dead fish, it's too easy to hear-"

The white-robed woman broke the silence with warm if high-pitched laughter. "Mishrak, I told you several times. I have heard Raihna speak of this man and I have studied his aura. He is not one to be led by the nose, or by any other part of his body. Lead him by his sense of honor, and he will go where you will. Otherwise do not waste your breath."

A choking noise crept from under the leather hood. Conan suspected that if Mishrak could have strangled anyone, he would have started with Conan and gone on to the woman. Beside Conan, Raihna was pressing her face into a pillar to hide her blush and what looked remarkably like laughter.

"May I deserve your praise, lady," Conan said. "Would I be speaking to Mistress Illyana?"

"You would."

The woman also seemed to have northern blood in her, but her hair was brown with tints of auburn. She wore a simple flowing gown of white silk with saffron borders and silver-decorated sandals. The gown was too loose to show much of her body, but from the lines in the long face Conan judged her to be upwards of thirty. A trifle thin-flanked for his tastes, but not unhandsome.

Illyana accepted Conan's scrutiny in silence for a moment, then smiled.

"With Lord Mishrak's permission, I will tell you what is asked of you.

But first I will thank you for saving Raihna from death or shame. She began as a hired sword, but the years have made us spirit-sisters."

Conan frowned. "Auras" and "spirit-kin" were things of priestcraft if not wizardry. What was this woman?

"I ask your aid in a search for the missing Jewel of Kurag. It is a thing of ancient Atlantean magic, set in an arm-ring of Vanir work-"

She went on to describe the history of the Jewels, as much as was known of it, from their mysterious origins in Atlantis to the present day. It seemed they had a long and b.l.o.o.d.y history, for the spells needed to use them safely were hard to learn even for the most accomplished sorcerers.

"Then why bother with the Jewels at all?" Conan asked.

"Even separately, they confer great power on a skilled user. Together, no one knows what limits there might be on the magic of their possessor."

Conan reflected that he had learned nothing about sorcerers he had not long since known.

Illyana continued with the possession of the Jewels by her master Eremius, his growing ambition to use the powers of the Jewels to rule the world, their quarrel, her flight with one of the Jewels, and much else. She ended by saying that the tales of demons coming out of the Ibars Mountains hinted of Eremius's presence.

"With all in fear of him, his strength will grow steadily. Soon it will make him a valuable ally to ambitious men like Lord Houma. They will aid him, thinking to use his powers against their enemies. They will only be buying themselves the strongest chains of all, forged by the most ancient and evil magic."

"Ancient and evil magic..." Conan heard those words with icy clarity, although he had heard most of what went before with only half an ear.

Mishrak was not only asking him to flee like a thief from Aghrapur and Lord Houma's vengeance. He was asking a Cimmerian to guard the back of a sorceress on a quest for a menace no honest steel could face. He would also have wagered his sword that Illyana was telling less than the whole truth about the Jewels.

No honor in any of this. But even less in leaving Pyla and Zaria and young Thebia (who might grow no older) to the mercy of those who had none, either.

Curse all women and whatever G.o.d created them as a joke on men! They might be a mystery themselves, but they certainly knew how to bring a man to them, like a trainer with a half-grown hunting dog!

"By Hanuman's stones!" Conan growled. "I never thought listening could be as dry work as talking. Bring me and Raihna some wine, and I'll promise to fly to the moon and bring back its queen's loinguard!"

Two of the guardswomen sprang up without an order and vanished like hares fleeing the wolf. Conan sat down cross-legged and drew his sword.

Sighting along the blade for nicks, he concluded he'd best put it in the hands of a smith before setting out on serious business.

When he knew he had everyone's attention, he laughed. "You want me to run off to the Ibars Mountains, with a half-mad swordwench and a more than half-mad sorceress. Then we hunt for a magic jewel and steal it from a completely mad wizard, fighting our way through whatever magic-sp.a.w.ned monsters we find. If we s.n.a.t.c.h the jewel, you'll win, whether we live or die."

Mishrak laughed for the first time since Conan mentioned Houma. "Conan, you should be one of my spies. I have none who could say half as much in twice as many words."

"I'd rather be gelded!"

"Why not do both? A fighting eunuch would be a valuable ear and eye in Vendhya. I'm sure you would rise high in my service."

Raihna gave up trying to stifle her laughter and buried her face in Conan's shoulder. He put an arm around her and she did not resist, only shaking the harder until tears streamed down her face.

By the time she was sober, the guardswomen had returned with the wine.

Mishrak poured out the first cup, drank from it, and then watched in silence until the others were served.

"Well, Conan?" he said at last.

"Well, Mishrak. It's not to my taste, running like a thief because I didn't want my drinking spoiled by seeing a woman mishandled. It's less to my taste going anywhere in the company of a wizard.

"But you don't have the name of a fool, Mishrak. If you want me for this nonsense, I suppose you can have me."

Raihna threw her arms around Conan. From the look on Illyana's face, she would have liked to do the same. From under the black leather hood came only a harsh laugh.

Four.

"Now HERE'S A finer mount than I'll wager you thought I had," the horse dealer said exuberantly. "Look at those legs. Look at that depth of chest. Look at that n.o.ble-"

"How is his wind?" Raihna said.

"He's no colt, I'll not deny that. He's better. A seasoned, trained mount fit to carry either of you wherever you might want to go. Begging your pardon, Captain, my lady, but neither of you has the look of dwarfs to these old eyes. To be sure, I'm a better judge of horses than of men, but-"

Raihna ignored the dealer and stepped up to the horse. He gave her what seemed to Conan a wary look, but showed no obvious skittishness or signs of mistreatment. He stood patiently for Raihna's examination, then tossed his head and whinnied when she patted his neck.

"No colt indeed," Raihna said. "Were he a man, I'd say he was most fit to sit in the sun until his days were finished."

"My lady!" The dealer could hardly have seemed more outraged if Raihna had questioned his lawful birth. "This fine, long-striding beast has many more years-"

"A few more years, perhaps. Not enough to be worth half what you ask for him."

"Lady, you insult both my honor and this horse. What horse so insulted will bear you willingly? If I reduce the price by a single bra.s.s piece, I will be insulting him. Mitra strike me dead if I wouldn't!"

"I'm surprised that someone you sold a vulture's dinner disguised as a horse hasn't saved Mitra the trouble!" Conan said. He was far from sure why Raihna was spending so much time bargaining for a huge gelding clearly at home only on level ground. He did know that if the dealer thought he could appeal to Conan, he would do so and all would waste more time.

The bargaining waxed hot and eager. Conan was reminded of a game he had seen among the Iranistani, where men on ponies batted a dead calf about with long-handled mallets. (He had heard tales that sometimes a dead enemy's head took the place of the calf.)

At last the dealer cast up his hands and looked much as if he would gladly go and hang himself. "When you see me begging for alms in the Great Square, remember that it was you who made me a beggar. You will offer no more?"

Raihna licked dusty lips. "By the Four Springs! I will have precious little to put in your begging bowl if I pay more! Would you have me selling myself in the streets because you know not the true value of a horse?"

The dealer grinned. "You are too fine a lady for the likes of those you would meet in the streets. The watch would also demand their share.

Now, if you wished some time to come privily to me, I am sure-"

"Your wife would notice what was missing, the next time she bedded you," Conan growled. "Shape more respectful words on your tongue, or carry it home in your purse!"